The air was cold, every noise made you jump, every whisper of the wind made your hair stand on end. Generators popped, survivors screams were carried in the wind as they dropped. You chose to focus on the last generator, it rattled as you worked on its needed repairs.

Suddenly your heart started to race, you could feel your pulse in your ears. you looked behind you and he was there, cleaver in hand and that twisted mask on his face. He took a swing, you dodged. His cleaver was stuck in the generator.